Friday, March 1, 2024

Track selection by: Phenomenal P
This Is My Life
Cali Agents
Album: How The West Was One (2000)
Producer: Panik

Verse 1 (Rasco)

It be the raw rhyme spitter, no glitter with no glam
I can still turn out your whole jam
It's nothin but fam up in the spot, nigga, ready or not
And if you wanna see us play, put a buck in the slot
We got dangerous plots
Schemes and big dreams, big money themes
I need just to feed my seed
No greed involved, but I still stand tall
Be spendin yo time up at the goddamn mall
Doin things that don't mean shit
Still lookin for tail, I'm still lookin for my checks in the mail
Without fail we bring it back to its original form
Been doin this before you young cats was born
Hated in my own backyard, what kinda logic is that?
These niggas mad cause I'm bringin it fat
In fact, I'm never broke, never blowin the smoke
But when I'm standin in the crowd, they be knowin the quotes
It's like, how in the hell do these cats even sell?
Be spittin big words your ass can't even spell
Stars and quasars, a hundred and ten bars
Of pure rhymes, I'ma tell you one last time
My rhyme's elite, give me 265 feet
I might leave niggas sprawled in the street
When you spit yours, the shit didn't sound right
And now it's because you didn't lay it down right
Cover your folks with all the chronic weed smoke
You just found out that Ras didn't need folks
I do it myself, I keep cash at the spot
Be up in your face, whether you like Ras or not